Sanctuary
by Serein Doll
Summary: A young woman driven by guilt and desperation seeks solace and atonement in the church, while hiding from the consequences of her terrible actions. Fate leads an AX agent to her path.
1. Redirected Life

Sanctuary

Plot Summary- A young woman driven by guilt and desperation seeks solace and atonement in the church, while hiding from the consequences of her terrible actions. Fate leads an AX agent to her path.

A/N- A few points to be made about the direction of the story here, I fully intend to have some kind of pairing between my OC and a cannon character, who I'm not so sure about yet. And this fic is rather angsty at the beginning, but PLEASE read on, the plot moves along much faster (yes I have a plot) and things get much more interesting once cannon characters can be introduced. Anywho on with the fic…

Disclaimer first though- I do not own any of the character in Trinity Blood, okay?

_Italics_ mean thoughts or past events.

Chapter 1

Redirected Life

"_So, this is what life has come to"_

The great stone walls of St. Eustace Church in Antwerp appeared stark and imposing, even on this fine summer's day, the usual ornamentation lost in the barren austerity of the architecture.

But that was the reality of things now, there was no turning back.

St. Eustace's lone occupant was seated on the firs row of pews, eyes towards the alter, glazed over and distant. The young woman dressed in a nun's clothing wore no expression; she sat motionless, thoughts of things long past filtered through her mind as she tried to bock out the heaviness of her surroundings.

Suddenly, a faint smile drifted across her face as she reminisced, the first break in her unresponsive countenance for some time.

Memories, oh! How they were a blessing. The familiarity of things she knew were comforting to the point of joy. A refuge from the merciless change that had seen fit to utterly obliterate her once blissful life.

Everything else remained unfamiliar, and she felt as though she were in a storm, the events of her life swirling around her, too fast and too dangerous to grab hold.

Although, sitting there, on that pew, thousands of miles away from the place she still, hopelessly, called home; it felt like a fool's paradise these days.

The stifling silence and growing darkness revived the young woman slightly. She became more awake to her surroundings. The hardness of the wooden pew, the starched quality of her nun's garb and most noticeably the weight of the white habit covering most of her hair; Still a somewhat alien addition to her.

It was times like this she mentally scolded herself for her weaknesses. How was she meant to ever adjust to her present life when she would constantly drift back to thoughts of the one she used to have?

She shook her head. The best way forward was to totally wash her hands of her former existence. What's done is done.

She knew she could never undo her actions, however desperately she wished it so. Desperation was a feeling that had manifested far too frequently in these past few months.

"_I wouldn't be here otherwise"_

She sighed in defeat. It was futile to deny one's past, after all, at least there were these precious few memories of unspoiled content and delight.

Before….before mistakes were made, people lost and a lifetime of guilt and regret to replace them. With her future so bleak, really, only the past could hold refuge.

Dusk was slowly setting in, she shivered. Nighttime really was the worst. That's when it really hit her. The realization was soul crushing. She recalled when it first came to her. The day she found herself at St. Eustace's.

_Days of running aimlessly, only to escape from the consequences of her actions. It was there, outside this very building, she froze._

"_All that I ever knew, loved. Gone……? No, it couldn't…..she……..and by my own hands"_

_She broke down right there. The sound of her hysteria attracting the attention of the inhabitant inside. The elderly priest started at the sight of the young woman, sobbing on the steps of St. Eustace's. She appeared travel worn and exhausted. _

_A few hours later she was fed, given simple, but clean clothes and put to bed by the gentle and empathetic priest. _

_All the while she had not uttered a word. Although the tears had subsided all forms of misery and despondence were gone. She instead, remained completely passive and emotionless; a dead look in her eyes._

_But the kindly priest was patient his pleasant mind simply couldn't imagine what this girl had been through, but pitied her all the same. _

_After thinking about it the night before the compassionate priest brought the girl a humble breakfast the following morning. And a small pile of white clothes._

_He came offering a place for her a St. Eustace, a nun's life and the small duties that involved. He still didn't know exactly what had gone wrong for this girl, but he had no doubt that the church, God and himself could be what she needed to pull herself together again._

_She stared at him blankly for such a time that he thought she had not understood him, on the verge of repeating himself she suddenly held up her hand to stifle his words. _

"_I accept your offer and would be most content in devoting myself to this church"_

_He smiled at her collected and coherent reply, after hours of silence it felt like huge progress. _

"_And may I enquire Miss" The priest said, feeling more confidant after her first words,_

"_What is your name?"_

_At this she stiffened and grew quiet again. It wasn't for a few moments later when she answered,_

"_My name….my name is Eden, Eden Delacroix"_

And things went on from there. She became responsible for the more domestic duties of the church, whereas he dealt with the parishioners. She rarely met others, Father Alfons assumed her to be a naturally fragile and introverted person, her recent misfortunes only increasing this. How wrong he was.

This suited her fine however, and almost after time an almost routine existence had emerged from the chaos.

She cherished this, it gave her time to reflect and, when that was too painful, time to observe and listen. Father Alfons Komend as it turned out was a complacent old man, having been at this church for many years. He had seen many things occur during his time there, even the murders of a noble family who had been the churches main parishioners and benefators for generations. Only one survived the vampire attack, a son, who Father Alfons had heard taken up the cloth himself and currently worked with the Vatican.

He would tell Eden stories of the churches past such as this, and each time she saw the real feeling and sadness he felt for anyone who had suffered loss. She couldn't find a trace of unkindness within the priest, but found him to be somewhat too trusting and perhaps idealistic.

He had inquired little on the subject of Eden's past, whether it was because he was afraid it may cause her pain, or he simply respected her privacy, she could see that he believed that eventually all would be well in her mind. That just being here in a house of God was doing her good by the day.

His optimistic ways warmed her slightly, but a hint of bitterness could not be suppressed. The faith and conviction put into the idea that all would work out could not be helped but be slightly envied by the troubled, pessimistic person she had become.

"_And who exactly have I become?"_

Memories of herself reflected an untroubled, joyful person she had one been. A girl who smiled, laughed, loved and was loved. In times where she could still stand to look at herself in a mirror, without feelings of disgust rise within her.

But they were gone and here remained _her_. A broken lost young woman. A mind darkened and consumed by guilt. Someone frequently haunted by the ghosts of their past.

_Sister _Eden Delacroix.

A/N (Again)- Now that you've read it, Please Review!!!! I really _must _know what you think. Important thing here- Eventually I will have a Eden/Someone pairing in any form, be it one-sided, hopelessly complicated or utterly doomed, But I really would like to know who you would like, I hinted about Hughe, with the whole telling his past and all, but maybe they'll be close friends or hate each other or anything. Please tell me what you think and if I should carry on, I've got some awesome ideas for when the cannon characters have arrived, tell me if you want to know, bye!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**- Very sorry for the slow update, slight writers' block mixed with insane workload situation, but enough about that and some very important plot/chapter related info some may need to understand- This chapter begins with the conversation between Kate and Caterina voiced over at the end of episode six- Sword Dancer- Although Hugue will be used as a medium to introduce Eden to Rome/AX etc. They may not end up in any type of relationship. Thanks to **Sakura Star**'s suggestion about Able, she'll definitely meet him at some point so many they'll hit it off. And thank you also to **yume girl 91** my writing styles tend to change depending the character I write about so I hope you'll like this chapter too (if I haven't kept you too long waiting)

Oh, and another important point about this chapter, it's very biographical concerning Hugue, for those of you who don't know he had a sister name Anais who was taken by vampires the night the rest of his family was slaughtered. He was from a noble family in modern Belgium, where the Watteau clan had served for many generations.

Chapter 2

"_Is that so?"_

The Cardinal's voice betrayed her exasperation at the news being relayed to her, she did, as always, expect some amount of bloodshed where her most flighty AX agent was concerned. But really, he couldn't have gone _this_ far.

"The Amsterdam vampires have been annihilated…?" It seemed impossible; but the Duchess of Milan had witnessed on many occasions just what Father Hugue was capable of.

"Yes, he said he would go to Antwerp next." Sister Kate's faintly electronic tone said as her holographic features creased into a disapproving expression.

"Issue orders for Sword Dancer to return, he should obey immediately; I will overlook his going too far this time..." She had let roam free for some time now, in four months she hadn't received work from him in that time. She usually felt uncomfortable about tying the naturally independent priest to Rome; anyway, it was useful to have someone already in Europe, ready for anything that should arise. However, she could not afford another incident like this.

Her Eminence turned her gaze toward the window, unable to look at Sister Kate's face as she finished her sentence.

"…If not…"

It was indivertible he'd find himself here, despite the order for his return he would continue with his original plans before eventually complying. But none of that was on his mind at the moment, the concern for the nun who saved his life were soothed after leaving her in good care. Her sweet and shy manners had led to thoughts of _her_, led him here.

This city, this place, this church.

_How long had it been?_

He didn't like to dwell on the answer, it was how long since he last saw his family alive…last saw Anais. She was all golden hair and innocent smiles- but not that night, the night she was taken.

He shook his head, as though filtering his thoughts of that night; though to any outsider it would have appeared as nothing, he was never that obvious with his personal gestures. Anything that betrayed his feelings for that matter.

He sighed inwardly, a resigned sigh for he knew now that he was here he'd have to go to it. This church where every Sunday of his childhood and early teens he and his family would go. Where he would sit, in the back row with his brothers, quietly and inconspicuously laughing or joking. Within minutes losing interest in Father Komend's sermon. Whispering as small children do and silencing, immediately feigning interest towards the alter the moment any adult looked their way. They smiled in conspiratorial glee when they evaded trouble once again.

Occasionally Anais would shoot an stern glare at their antics. As the only daughter of their family of many boys, she would often treat them in a motherly fashion, despite their seniority over her. But, he supposed, it was just in her nature to care.

She, on the other hand would soak up the Father's words in the utter most reverence. As the pious, sweet creature she was, she found religious belief to be the solution to any hardships life could throw at you. A feeling he would come to understand years later.

She loved this church, he would find her inside here sometimes, on those lush summer days, content in the peace she found here that no one else seemed to understand in comparison to the delights to be had anywhere other than this large, empty church.

Not to say that he was the most sociable of children. Sure he would join in whatever mischief was to be had with his brothers when they were young. He'd play, laugh, explore with them until their mother called them home, as always with an annoyed look at their muddy clothes and skinned knees; but a small, fond smile that one must give to the energetic nature of al children.

But unlike the others he did not seek their company, normally he would get dragged into whatever scheme or prank his elder siblings were plotting and end up staying for the fun of watching them run, half laughing, half screaming as an angry neighbor, their father or another adult chased them for their misdeeds.

If he wasn't bothered however he was content in his own company. Quiet, even at times. Although he would find amusement in the companionship of his brothers, he did not particularly enjoy being with others for a prolonged time. After they had their fun he would often retreat to some secluded place- no one knowing where to find him and enjoyed being by himself. On occasion he would join Anais, here.

This preference for solitude became more pronounced as he and his siblings grew into their teenage years. His childish spirit slowly calmed down, and the need to spend time with those around him seemed less necessary. It was one of the reasons he and his sister became so close. Only she seemed to understand, she knew when to give his own space and time alone.

So it was in this church he would find privacy. Lying horizontally on the pews, staring up at the mural on the ceiling some past generation of de Watteau's had commissioned. It was regularly empty as the presiding father never had much in the way of help with his duties and often spent the day visiting his parishioners.

The cool stone walls and bluish light streaming from the elaborately designed stained glass of the windows soothed him in his quiet contemplation.

He liked this place; the curved solid walls seemed to dwarf the smaller sophisticated furnishings, making the place appear almost plain, despite the expensive ornamentation. This was a good thing, places with overbearing aesthetics never made good places to think.

The large wooden door with its ancient hooks gave the pleasant impression of blocking out the world, with its solid wooden grain, able to withstand the test of time so it seemed. In any case it looked the same as it ever did from the now closer distance he was to it. It appeared sometime during his reminiscing he had subconsciously began walking always from his position a few dozen yards overlooking the church.

The outer walls were now a mere few feet away from him for the first time in years. They looked the same, but things changed. The world had changed, he had. Now these walls faced the crypt where _they_ lay in their eternal rest. This was a change he had spent the rest of his life cursing.

The door didn't squeak on its hinges as one might expect from their ancient impression. If anyone was devoted to this church it was Father Komend, provided he was still here. Occasionally during his hours spent here he would see the good father, as he passed on his way towards the many little chores dedicated to his meticulous upkeep of this church.

It was as though his memories had taken a corporal form seeing as how everything appeared exactly the way he remembered it..

His footsteps echoed lightly in the empty building as he slowly made his way to the front set of pews, directly in front of the alter; where he'd find Anais, looking up expectantly at him, with that sweet smile she offered him each time he went out of his way to find her.

He would have given anything to see her there again.

He halted, wanting to believe she'd be there again, he half expected to see her bright grey eyes fixed on his own.

There was no Anais, as should have been expected, but what he most certainly didn't expect to find was the dark haired nun looking up at him from her position on the pews. Lying horizontally on her back, hands behind her head, in a nonchalant manner that seemed to suit her far more than her clothes.

She didn't appear to notice him for a few moments and rather than the normally supposed reaction for a nun of a blush and apology when having just been caught slacking in such a way. She instead raised on eyebrow- which he had to admit still had its desired 'well-what?' effect, despite being upside down and slowly made her way into a seating position, no more abashed than before.

**Authors note**- So what did you think? I'd really appreciate your views and love some more ideas! I'm thinking of adding in the pasts of most cannon characters I introduce so tell me if you liked that, of course they'll be sparse between chapters. Oh and I hope the time line was clear, anyhow bye and please review!


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